


Partners

by 391780 (goblinparty)



Series: Cold Wind [3]
Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Alcohol!, M/M, Two emotionally constipated idiots!, kisses!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinparty/pseuds/391780
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How long do they normally pair people up for?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

_How long do they normally pair people up for?_

Wrench had run to the liquor store and returned with a few bottles of whiskey. They were halfway through the first bottle when Wrench started getting more talkative. Numbers hadn't realized how little they had communicated up until that point, he had just sort of assumed that along with being deaf, Wrench was just a quiet guy. Who knew getting a few drinks in him would get him so chatty?

_Not sure. Never used to pair us up before. Probably until we complain or one of us dies. Why, you don't like the company?_

Wrench hissed out a silent laugh.

_No, company's fine. Just wondering how long I'm going to have to read your chicken scratch._

Numbers wrinkled his nose.

_It's not THAT bad!_

_It's pretty bad._

Numbers paused for a moment.

_Do you sign?_

Wrench snorted, and made a complicated gesture that Numbers assumed meant 'Of course'.

 _Is it hard to learn?_ Wrench's face softened at this, a small smile pulling at the corners of his eyes.

_Not sure. It's my first language. Don't really remember learning it._

“Makes sense.” Numbers said out loud to nobody in particular. He hadn't realized how quiet they were being until his words sliced through the silence.

There was a long, awkward pause as the men continued to drink, pretending to watch the nature documentary running muted on the tv. Suddenly, a firm poke to the shoulder brought Numbers' attention back to his partner.

_I almost told you. About your Dad._

_I know._

_I'm sorry._

_I know._

Numbers paused for a moment.

_He was a bad man. A worse father. Taught me how to be a bad man. What happened is just what happens to people like that. It's a cycle or something._

Wrench nodded knowingly. He'd known enough bad men in his life to understand what Numbers was talking about. He'd seen them meet their ends in similar ways. He tried to pretend that he and Numbers were different from them, but he knew he was just lying to himself. Wrench took a long sip from his whiskey and turned back to the tv. The two men watched silently as tacky late night commercials flickered on the screen, balding men advertising mattresses or legal advice in poorly lit rooms. Wrench almost thought it looked like they were yelling, but wasn't sure if raising your voice when talking about cheap box springs was a good sales tactic or not. Wrench felt a light tap on his arm, and turned to see Numbers scooting the notepad over to him.

_I'm OK. Really. It's just a lot to deal with._

Wrench gave him a small, sympathetic smile and placed his hand on Numbers' shoulder. The smaller man seemed slightly taken aback by the gesture, but didn't squirm out from Wrench's grip. Wrench dropped his hand, and Numbers pushed off the bed to stand up. He swayed a little before losing his balance entirely and falling back on the bed. He grinned sheepishly at Wrench as he drunkenly tried to sit back up again. Wrench reached over to try to stabilize him, but Numbers only managed to fall on top of his arm, pinning him. Wrench could feel the bed vibrate from Numbers' laughter. He watched lips stretched tight over teeth as Numbers' smile widened. Wrench could feel the liquor making his head swim. He watched the other man turn to look at him with dark, smiling eyes. He felt overwhelmed by a mix of guilt, lust, and liquor, and decided to throw caution and common sense to the wind. He threw his free arm over Numbers' torso, leaned in, and kissed him.

Wrench could feel Numbers freeze underneath him, and for the briefest of moments felt Numbers lean into it and suck on his lip. Wrench's heart barely had time to flip before, out of nowhere, Numbers' fist socked him in the jaw. Wrench cried out, rolling off of the older man. Numbers was frozen, wide eyes and seemingly breathless with a panicked look on his face. Wrench chuckled darkly to himself. Numbers seemed like the kind of man who didn't easily express emotion, let alone affection. He likened Numbers to a stray dog who snaps while being fed- he just didn't know how to deal with any small amount of kindness or endearment.

Wrench drew himself up onto his knees, looming over Numbers who was still on his back. He crawled forward and pushed himself back onto Numbers' lips, kissing harder as he held his partners shoulders against the hard mattress. Wrench felt him squirm under him briefly before a flurry of surprisingly soft punches to the ribs struck him. Wrench mostly ignored it, continuing to suck and bite as he pleased, feeling Numbers' beard scrape along his face. Numbers must have cracked a tooth with his first blow, because the kiss tasted like blood. He didn't mind, he always enjoyed mixing lust and violence anyways. Wrench felt the punches get softer and softer until Numbers' hands uncurled and began stroking up and down the sides of Wrench's torso. Wrench released a sigh of relief into Numbers' open mouth. Any more punching and he'd have had to climb off, blame it on the liquor, and try to make sure Numbers didn't slit his throat during the night.

Numbers continued to run his hands over Wrench's body, completely pinned underneath him. He occasionally would suck on Wrench's lip, but seemed hesitant to fully engage in the kiss. Wrench didn't mind, he figured so long as he was ok with it he'd go as far and as long as Numbers let him. He pulled out of the kiss to look at his partner below him. Numbers' face was contorted into an expression Wrench could not decipher. Without warning, Numbers grabbed Wrench's arm and twisted his body, throwing Wrench off the bed and onto the floor. Before Wrench could sit up, Numbers was already on his feet, writing on the notepad. Numbers finished, tossed the notepad onto Wrench's stomach, pulled on his coat and scarf and hurried out the door.

_Going out. Stay here._

Wrench read the note a dozen times, his stomach sinking with every passing second. He was so stupid, how could he ever think that was going to work? He didn't even know if Numbers liked men, plus on top of it he's drunk and dealing with this family and work shit? Wrench cursed at himself. He could hardly believe what an idiot he'd been.

Hours passed, and Numbers wasn't back yet. Wrench was on the verge of panic, curled up on his impossibly uncomfortable bed and hoping sleep would come. He sat there, trapped with his own thoughts. He'd blown it. He didn't even know why he kissed Numbers. He barely knew the man. He felt a connection, yeah, but that didn't mean anything. Number just happened to be someone he clicked with, why did he have to go and fuck that all up? Wrench ran through every possible (and occasionally impossible) scenario for where Numbers had gone and what would happen when he got back. He wondered if maybe he should run before Numbers had the chance to shoot him in the head. His last thought before finally succumbing to sleep was that if Numbers did shoot him, he probably deserved it.

______________________

Sunlight through wispy curtains woke up Wrench the next morning. As soon as his brain reached consciousness, he jerked awake to see if Numbers had made it home. He glanced at the other bed, where Numbers was resting against the headboard holding a book in one hand and.... was he signing with the other? Wrench blinked to adjust his sight. The bright yellow cover read _Signing Illustrated_ , and Numbers was slowly, clumsily, practicing the alphabet with his free hand. Wrench's heart lurched at the sight. Was he still asleep?

Numbers finally noticed Wrench, and smiled somewhat bashfully at him. Wrench reached for the notepad.

_How's it going?_

_I've got fingerspelling down, I think. Should help on the job._

_How do you like it so far?_

Wrench saw Numbers laugh before spelling out

_M-Y-H-A-N-D-I-S-C-R-A-M-P-I-N-G_

Wrench snorted, and Numbers picked up the pen again.

 _Let's get back to Fargo. I am fucking sick of Bismarck._ Wrench nodded, and slowly turned to get dressed. He wondered if Numbers remembered the kiss, or if he just refused to talk about it. He wanted to ask where he'd gone, what he'd done, how he felt. Either way, Wrench had pushed his luck with him and didn't want to push it too much more. He turned to watch Numbers practice. He seemed engaged in his studies. He watched Numbers awkwardly fingerspell the alphabet repeatedly, sometimes going backwards, sometimes making small words. Wrench was slightly entranced. No hearing person had ever bothered to learn to sign for him, not even his own family. Just as Wrench was reminding himself that learning a language doesn't equal love, Numbers noticed him staring.

_H-U-R-R-Y-U-P-A-S-S-H-O-L-E. I-W-A-N-N-A-G-O-H-O-M-E._

Wrench grinned broadly and continued packing. Maybe, in the case of Numbers, learning a language was as close to expressing love as he could get.

 


End file.
